And then one day, everywhere you look,
a door, waiting for you to open it.
In the apple tree. In the parking lot.
in a blade of grass. In each stone.
Not that it appeared because you are here.
More that it always existed and now
you can see it. In the asphalt drive.
In the dotted line. In the telephone ring.
In the scent of lemon. And every door
a world you might choose to enter.
Kiss on the neck. Cloudy sky.
Magpie wing. News headline.
You can’t possibly enter them all.
Button hole. Rising bread.
Sometimes you can go back
and the door will still open. Sometimes,
even on the most familiar path,
you can never go back again.
Hi Rosemerry, I connect with this one as I just had my first palpable shift out of a period of inspiration, and didn’t realize how good it was while I was in it…how much magic…and trying to (of course) to re-enter that place, however ‘organically’ as one can…though in all honesty I’m superstitious, I still try burning incense…and yet it is so much about how you see things, things that are always there but take on a magical air / kind of speak to you when you’re on, inspired. I’ve called it activating your poetry gland. Fans out as a lizard’s might.
Oh do I get it!! Itâs so lovely when it happens ⦠and so empty when it disappears! Yes, the fanning gland.
Hereâs to doors appearing everywhere again. And again.
Hugs to you, amigo mio,
r
Watch my TEDx talk The Art of Changing Metaphors: TEDX Rosemerry Trommer
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
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wordwoman.com
From: “comment-reply@wordpress.com” Reply-To: Date: Tuesday, November 7, 2017 at 4:43 PM To: Rosemerry Trommer Subject: [A Hundred Falling Veils] Comment: “Inspiration”